


The Consulting (Retired) Dragon and his Hobbit

by Lilnerd3696



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: BAMF Bilbo, BAMF John, Forgive Me, M/M, No idea where this is going, Reincarnation, discontinued, done, funny?, idk - Freeform, im so sorry, kinda Possessive!Thorin, may add more tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilnerd3696/pseuds/Lilnerd3696
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smaug does his 'I am fire! I am death!' drama queen thing a bit earlier and it knocks a few screws loose in Bilbo's noggin. Along with some memories. </p><p>Edit: Discontinued cause I have commitment issue. Feel free to pick up where I left off if you think you can save it (credit me, of course).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I am Fire! I am Death!"

"You're a bloody drama Queen!"

All the Dwarrows froze, the only movement was the flickering of their eyes from Smaug to their burglar. Said burglar was leaning against one of the few remaining columns that Smaug hadn't already knocked over and the expression on his face was a mixture of shock, anger and resignation. The ground trembled as Smaug brought his front feet down, splashing more molten gold up his legs. His scaly snout snaked it's way over to the hobbit. Curiosity was sparkling in his eyes, along with... recognition?

Bilbo stood there as Smaug's head came so close every time the dragon exhaled the air blew Bilbo's hair back from his face. "Ah," Smaug rumbled deeply. He blinked slowly and raised his head to scan the destroyed hall. "It appears I was wrong."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Bilbo remarked. "And wrong about what?" Smaug inspected his gold flecked scales. "When I was younger I did a study on whether reincarnation was real. The evidence suggested it was not." Dark scales drew back over gleaming sharp fangs in disgust. "This is going to take forever to get out of my scales."

"Um... Mr Baggins? What's going on?" Ori's head poked up over the rubble scattered around the outside of the shimmering pool, his brothers too shocked to try and pull him back down. Smaug snorted. "Not very bright is he?" His snout had slowly drifted back towards Bilbo, and the hobbit smacked it not too gently. "Manners Sherlock!" He scolded. "You may be bigger than before but that doesn't change anything." One of the Dwarrows choked. Neither Bilbo nor Smaug bothered to check which one. The dragon shoved his face closer to Bilbo till it ended up mere centimeters from the Hobbits own. Smaug snorted, smoke puffing up in Bilbo's face. Bilbo hit him again.

"Burglar!" Thorin called from where he was dangling. "You would do good to answer Mister Oris question." Bilbo didn't say anything and merely looked pointedly at Smaug. Smaug stared back. They stood like that for less than a minute before a long, low growl filled the hall. A tail came flashing up towards the Company's leader. It whistled through the air and almost knocked Thorin to the ground, a fall that would've either killed or crippled him. Luckily for Thorin the tail slowed and stopped next to him, suspended in the air by muscles, bones, scales and the will of an irritated dragon. "Oh just hop on it for God's sake!" Bilbo cried in experation as the seconds ticked by. "He won't drop you!" "And you know this how?" Thorin argued. "Ten minutes ago he was trying to kill us!"

"Believe me Thorin Oakinshield," Smaug rumbled over Bilbo's reply. "I would like nothing more than to slaughter every dwarrow in this mountain, but for some reason 'Mr Baggins' has taken a liking to you. So I will not kill you." The tail drifted closer to the King who, after a few seconds of debate, grabbed onto the tail. Heat radiated from underneath the scales and Thorin almost found himself missing the warmth when he clambered off onto the cool stone. _Almost_.

Smaug looked on with amusement as all the dwarrows swarmed around the King as soon as he'd set a foot on the ground. /One blast and they'd all be incinerated/, he mused. "Sherlock..." Bilbo quietly warned him. "Why are you calling the dragon 'Shirlock' Mr Boggins?" Asked a curious Kili.

"Because that is my name!" Sherlock growled. "Although it is pronounced 'Sherlock' not 'Shirlock', and if you can't use the correct pronunciation you can continue calling me Smaug." Sherlock's scales rustled as he moved back in the direction of the treasury with Bilbo pitter-pattering along beside him, leaving the huddle of dwarrows in the ruined hall.


	2. Chapter 2

The dwarrows found them in the treasury once they had gathered up some courage and made a plan. "We will listen to their story," Thorin had ordered. "But do not forget what the wyrm has done to us." "Nor what our burglar has done for us." The King had glared at Balin, but the old dwarf had remained unaffected.

Sherock -no, the wyrm- was curled up in a mountain of gold and jewels, a sight which made Thorin's blood boil. Their burglar (was he their burglar anymore? Thorin didn't know.) was carefully perched on Smaug's left foreleg, grinning and clutching at something cupped in his hands. Smaug seemed to be smiling as well; fangs once again bared, but this time in joy and not anger. The wyrm's golden eyes were fixed on the hobbit with an intensity that unnerved Thorin.

CLANG! 

A silver goblet embedded with sapphires went tumbling down the mound of treasure the dwarrows were trying to climb down. "Oops," grunted Dwalin. "Sorry." The warrior dwarf didn't seem very sorry until he realized there was a very large, fire breathing dragon glaring at him. And that less than twenty minutes ago the same dragon had expressed hs desire to burn them to a crisp. Or tears them to shreds. Or eat them. Dwalin had a very overactive imagination when it came to how a dragon would kill him and the rest of the company.

Bilbo's smile had faded a bit and now looked a bit forced, but he still waved he dwarrows over. They shuffled awkwardly for a few seconds. Around the campfire they had boasted about their courage and what they'd do to 'that pile of elf shit wrapped in scales', but now that there was no adrenaline running through their veins they found it much harder to approach the fearsome beast. Coins cascaded down after the goblet, clinking together and sounding like the chimes of tiny bells. And after the goblet and coins slid Ori. The scribe's face was pale but determined.

Nori, Dori and surprisingly Dwalin skidded down after Ori, and they were quickly joined by Fili and Kili. The brothers were laughing as they rode down the mound of gold on large, shiny, silver platters. Bifur and Bofur went next, diving out of the way as Bombour bounced past them, an unstoppable ball of fat and cloth. Thorin shook his head in experation at his company's ridiculous behavior, but followed them (albeit more majestically) with the remainder of the company trailing behind. 

Because Smaug and Bilbo were sitting near the base of the tall treasure trove the dwarrows didn't have to climb too far up the steep slope of trinkets. "Burglar." "Thorin," Bilbo replied courtesly. "I suppose you want some answers?" "That would be nice lad," Balin smiled. Bilbo smiled faintly back. "Sit down then. I don't know how long we'll be here."

"How do you know the wyrm and why didn't you tell us?" Bilbo frowned slightly at Thorin's impatience and lack of manners. "'The wyrm's' name is Smaug, or Sherlock to me. And how could I tell you something which I didn't remember?" "You seem to have no trouble remembering now Burglar. " Thorin flinched slightly as Smaug growled deeply in his throat.

"His name, Thorin Oakinshield, is Bilbo Baggins. And if I can figure that out, for he himself has not told me, then I'm sure someone such as yourself who has traveled so long with him -around a year if I'm not mistaken- would be able to find out if for some reason Bilbo hadn't told you when you first met. Highly unlikely, as I said you've traveled together for around a year. Long enough to refer to each other by surnames at least, and long enough for most people to realize when one of the people you're traveling with is hurt-" "Hurt?!" Gloin exclaimed. "Who's hurt?" The other dwarrows repeated the question except for Oin, who muttered "Someone's burnt? Where's my salve?"

Smaug sneered at the clamoring Company. "'Bilbo' is hurt. It's not hard to figure out if any of you paid any attention to anything that isn't getting your kingdom back-" "Sherlock if you don't shut up I'll throw this cup of tea in your eye." Smaug snorted. "It's cold," he gestured towards the cup of tea clutched in Bilbo's hands. "It doesn't have to be hot to cause at least some discomfort."

"Now, Sigrid and her mother were kind enough to patch me up in Laketown, and I don't need any mother henning from a bunch of dwarfs-" "-bunch of dwarrows, John. Not dwarfs-" "-shut up Sherlock or I'll shove Sting somewhere painful-" "-Sting? Ah, your sword-" "-I'm serious Sherlock. I'll tell Mycroft."

Smaug sniffed disdainfully. "Is he here too? Bother. What is he?" "A man I think. It seemed like him. You know, insufferable git. But he seemed nicer than before. I think I saw Lestrade too." "A family gathering," Sherlock groaned. "How wonderful."

"Would you be able to tell us your 'story' now?" Thorin regretted his impatience a little bit when both the hobbit and the dragon leveled a 'not impressed' look at him . A little bit. He jus wanted to get this over and done with so he could find the Arkenstone and maybe, if he was lucky, find the wyrm's weakness.

"Reincarnation." Smaug spoke slowly, tasting and savoring each syllable. "The belief that after you die you are born again as someone -or something- else with no memories of your past life. You'll live out your life and if you're 'good' your next body will be something nice-" "Like a dragon?" Bilbo smirked at Smaug, his keen ears picking up a quiet snort from the group of dwarrows now sitting cross legged on the floor of coins and gems.

"Yes like a dragon." Smaug rolled his eyes, slitted pupils quickly flicking across the cavernous room and the sea of silver plates, gold coins and colorful jewels. "If you're 'bad' your next body would be less pleasant." "Worms or orcs, " Bilbo grinned. "Or elves." The dwarrows mildly disgusted expressions morphed into extremely disgusted ones and Fili and Kili clung to each other in over exaggerated terror.

"Don't turn me into a tree shagger!" Kili wailed. "Take Fili instead!" A mock offended look plastered itself to Fili's face as he pushed his little brother off him and into Bifur and Bofur, who in turn were pushed into Bombour. The fat dwarrow gave a shout of surprise and rolled down the short slope head over heels with his arms and ginger braids flailing in the air. Laughter boomed from Bilbo and the dwarrows around the hall for the first time in over a century, and for a second Bilbo entertained the thought that the mountain was laughing with them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but I'll try write another one soon. 47 Kudos! Woo! Thanks guys.

"So you're saying that you and the wyr-Smaug used to run around catching murderers in another world?" Thorin said with disbelief in his voice. "Pretty much." Bilbo puffed on a plain (by dwarrow standards) pipe he'd found amongst the treasure and had filled it with the last of his Old Toby pipe weed he'd saved for the right time. And 'Me and my best friend have been reincarnated as mythical creatures and said best friend is a dragon and killed a lot of of people and took their home and I'm on a quest to get their home back and said people (or dwarrows) hate said best friend, or more-than-a-best-friend because shit happened and let's not get into that Bilbo' definitely makes it the right time.

Bilbo had slid off Smaug's leg around ten minutes into their explanation as he was unused to being taller than the rest of the company, but he'd still stayed close to the dragon. Sh-Smaug's scales (Smaug, it was Smaug now. Not Sherlock) were warm, a furnace behind Bilbo's back. "Can you tell me what it was like? Were there dwarrows? What was-" "Mr Baggins can tell you later if he so wishes," Thorin cut over Ori's excited questions. "After we finish what we set out to do."

Silence swept over the hall, a thick mist that made it hard to breath. Bilbo was as pale as when they'd crawled out of the barrels after escaping the Elven King's 'hospitality'. "Thorin-" "You want your kingdom back," Smaug stated. There was a strange gleam in his eye that reminded Bilbo of when he was John and Smaug was Sherlock and they were in their flat, Sherlock bent over the microscope and studying a  specimen with his once ice blue eyes.

"We wish to have our  _home_ back," Thorin spoke lowly. "To not wander for the rest of our lives, and to not force that burden on what few children we have." Smaug grinned. "You can have it." Wonder, shock, and amazement were only a few of the feelings struggling to make themselves seen on Bilbo and the dwarrows faces. "For a price."

Rage shoved it's way to the front of Thorin's face. "What?" He asked angrily. A pink forked tongue quickly flicked out of the dragons mouth, then back in. "I have no home either, Oakinshield, and I have grown quite fond of yours. All I ask is something for my troubles. Incidently it is the one thing I asked your grandfather for, the thing he refused to return to me, and the new thing that caused all those people to die."

"Out with it wyrm!" Thorin was nearly yelling and the only thing keeping him from leaping at the dragon was Balins's vice like hand around his wrist. Smaug's fangs glistened. 

"The Arkenstone."


	4. Chapter 4

Oh you absolute moron, Bilbo thought as he watched the dwarrows faces go either red or purple with rage. Smaug was still stretched out on thetreasures of Erebor, seemingly unaware that he'd awoken the dwarrow's dragon. The dragon of rage.

" Speak again wyrm, " Thorin rumbled. " I fear I have misheard you. "

" You did not mishear me Thorin Oakinshield. I will leave here, never to return, if you give me the Arkenstone. "

" You would have me give you the King's Stone, the Heart of the Mountain, to reclaim what is rightfully ours? "

" I would have you give me what is rightfully mine."

"How is the Arkenstone yours?! We dwarrows mined it from the stone beneath this very mountain!"

"It is not a stone you foolish dwarrow!"

Bilbo wondered if Smaug was secretly an ice drake because everyone in the hall excluding the dragon froze. Coins and gems clinked and chimed as Smaug rose to his feet, looming over them. "The Arkenstone is not a stone, a jewel or a crystal. It is one of the few known dragon eggs left in Middle Earth."

Thorin choked on his next words, either because Smaug had unfurled his wings and was looking terrifying or because he'd just found out the Heart of the Mountain, the pride of the dwarrows of Erebor, was a dragon egg. "A... a dragon egg?" He managed to croak out. "That was what I said," Smaug said as he rolled his golden eyes. "Your grandfather had much the same reaction when I told him, but while he refused I hope you will not."

"Why should we do that?" Asked Bifur. "I mean," the toy maker continued, "you killed thousands of people, so why should help you?" "Because we'll be incinerated if we don't?" Bilbo joked weakly. Bifur coughed, embarrassed. "Oh. Right." "Nonsense Bilbo," Smaug scoffed as he settled back down on his stomach. "II won't incinerate you, I just got you back." "Thanks, I feel honored." Bilbo's sarcasm was as dry as the Sahara Desert. "Now, Thorin Oakinshield. Will you get your home back? Or will you be the cause of even more deaths?"

"Will you stay true to your word wyrm?" Thorin replied wearily. "Will you leave my people and our descendents alone?" The dragon grinned. "I will not attack your people or their descendants without provocation, this I swear on the Arkenstone."

Thorin looked at Bilbo. "Do you trust him?" The hobbit nodded firmly. "With my life." "It's not just your life laddie," Balin put in. Thorin ignored the older dwarrow.

"Then yes, Smaug. I accept your conditions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason Thorin didn't protest is that he remembered all of the people depending on him and because they'd be killed if they didn't take the deal (not really but they think that). Also because the Arkenstone's a dragon egg and he doesn't really want it anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Two Days Later:

"Oi! Thorin! There's a fella here to talk to you!" Bofur leaned over the temporary battlement the dwarrows (and a reluctant Smaug) had constructed and smiled at Bard and the dozen men that accompanied him. "He'll be along shortly unless he pissed off Shirley again."

"If I 'pissed off Shirley again' it would only be because he was being rude, Bofur." Thorin swept majestically into the Men's sight. "Bard," he greeted the bowman. "I assume you've come for the money we owe you?" "Yes," Bard confirmed, "along with an offer of trade when Erebor is repaired." Thorin nodded thoughtfully. "We will continue inside where there's food. Let them in." He directed the last part towards Bofur and Nori. The thief had somehow joined the two dwarrows on top of the wall without the Men noticing.

Bofur nodded. "Right. Now you lot just-" The toymaker's orders were cut off by a roar that shook several small stones loose from the makeshift battlement. Thorin frowned. "They'll be fixing that tonight while we have dinner." The King Under the Mountain turned to face inside Erebor. "STOP ANNOYING THE WYRM OR I'LL TOSS YOU OFF THE BATTLEMENT!" His answer was another roar, and Thorin muttered to himself in Khuzdul before stalking into the mountain and out of the Men's sight.

"One shift of guard duty says it's the Princes," Nori bet quickly. Bofur snorted, "No thank you. I don't want to lose." They both leant over the battlement again to shout orders, but stopped at the sight below. Bard, pale but still in control of himself, was trying to rouse his men. The Men had either fainted or gone catatonic, and the dwarrows could smell piss and other less pleasant things. Nori grinned at Bofur. "Goddammit," the toymaker cursed as he dropped several gold coins into the thief's waiting hand.

"Should have known better than to bet against you."

"I told you the leader wouldn't faint."

"He's walking funny though. Do you think he shat himself?"

"Dunno. Wanna bet on it?"

"Fuck no."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nori and Bofur escorted Bard and the five men that weren't high tailing it back to Laketown into the old meeting room. It was already occupied by Thorin, Bilbo, Balin, Dwalin and Ori. "Hello Bard," Bilbo smiled. When they'd been in Laketown Bilbo had been the friendliest of the Company and the most willing to seek out conversation with the locals, including the grim faced guard. Bard nodded in greeting.

"Before we start anything King Thorin," Bard began. "May I ask what happened to the dragon?" Thorin winced at the question. "We have... come to an agreement of some sorts. He will not harm anyone unless given good reason to." Another roar, closer and louder than the first, echoed throughout the mountain. One of Bard's men suddenly sagged against the wall, trying to find some support. Thorin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And if that 'good reason' turns out to be my nephews I'll brutally murder them."

Footsteps thundered down the hall behind the room's only door, accompanied by (very manly, Kili would later insist) giggling. "Mahal help us," Thorin mumbled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I won't be able to update for a while I've got tests coming up and research assignments. Enjoy!

"Do you have the authority to do this?" Balin asked Bard politely as he rolled up the trading contract. "The Master said to 'make us rich'. This won't make us rich quickly, but maybe in a few years we won't be as poor as we are now," Bard replied easily. "Provided, of course, that your nephews don't unleash a dragon upon us." He looked pointedly at Thorin.

Bilbo clambered to his feet. "I'll go make sure no one's been incinerated," he said, only partly joking. There had been several more roars of frustration and anger although the occupants of the room hadn't heard anyone else go down the hall. Bilbo opened the door and headed towards the treasury. His feet were silent on the cold, stone floor. In the two days he'd been in Erebor a few dwarrows had graciously offered to show him around the empty kingdom so he had a pretty good idea of how to navigate the main areas.

The blinding gleam of Erebor's treasures assaulted him, yet again stealing the burglar's breath. The Company had barely touched the gold and gems besides counting out the gold they owed Laketown. Smaug had assured them that they had no need to search for the Arkenstone as he'd hidden it somewhere shortly after taking Erebor and wouldn't be needing it till he left. When they'd asked when he would leave he'd glanced in Bilbo's direction and smiled toothily. "Soon," he'd replied, and no one had asked again.

The Company had settled on a large platform overlooking the treasury. Thorin, Dwalin and a few other dwarrows had protested at first, but reluctantly agreed when Kili had whined about not being able to talk to 'Shirlock' during supper or when they were camped around the fire if they choose somewhere Smaug couldn't fit. Bilbo secretly thought the older dwarrows only agreed so they could keep an eye on the dragon.

"Mister Boggins!" Kili called out to the hobbit; eyes bright, cheeks flushed, and a mischievous grin across his face. There was a matching expression on Fili's face. _What have they done now?_ Bilbo sighed heavily. The brother's faces fell in unison, perfectly rehearsed. "Are we that awful company?" Kili pouted with crocodile tears pooling in his eyes. Bilbo snorted. "Don't even try it you two," he scolded. "Puppy eyes don't work on me. Besides, I was sighing because you two have done something -don't deny it Fili- that I'll probably have to clean up."

"But we didn't do anything!" Kili moaned, dropping the wounded look. "We didn't mean to do anything!" Fili hastily corrected. "We were just bored-" "-never a good thing Amad said-" "-shut up, Kili! And we were wandering around trying to find something to do and..." "And?" Bilbo pressed. "We found a couple of giant trays at the top of one of the mountains." "Oh by the Valar. Please tell me you didn't do what you're implying you did."

"We could," Fili offered. "But then we'd be lying," his brother finished for him. Bilbo collapsed into the empty space next to the older brother. "What happened? After you two decided to go joy riding down a giant pile of gold on serving trays, of course." Bilbo said sarcastically. Kili fidgeted a bit. "Well... wekindacrashedintoShirlock." The young dwarrow rushed the last bit out all in one breath. "We didn't see him," Fili mumbled. _He's a giant flying lizard!_ Bilbo wanted to scream. _How could you not see him?_

"You two," the hobbit jabbed his index finger at the dwarrows, "are telling your uncle." "Telling me what?" Thorin's deep baritone startled Bilbo and the two brothers. "Ask your nephews." Bilbo pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to find Sherlock."

Thorin's eyes burned into his back as he left.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its short, but have some sleepy Bilbo that I wrote in science.

"Where did they hit you?" Bilbo plopped himself down next to Sherlock's snout. One golden eye half opened to gaze at him, but the dragon did not speak. "Are you sulking?!" Bilbo asked incredulously. Sherlock snorted and shut his scaly eyelid. "You are!" Bilbo poked the 'sleeping' dragon. The dragon ignored him. Bilbo sighed quietly and leant against Sherlock's head. "They didn't mean to, Sherlock," he mumbled. "Don't be angry at them. They're just kids."

And they were just kids. Ori was just a kid. Fili and Kili were just kids. Hell, even Bilbo was just a kid by dwarrow standards. He wondered often how the three younger dwarrows were allowed to join the quest. I'll have to ask them one day, he thought tiredly. Thorin had been reasonable with giving Bard the money they owed Laketown, but when Bard had requested more of the treasure and some dwarrows to help rebuild Dale, Thorin... hadn't reacted well. It wasn't until Balin had pointed out that some of Sherlock's hoard was from Dale that Thorin had relented and reluctantly agreed to Bard's terms on the condition that Laketown would supply Erebor with food until they had their own source. Bard hadn't liked that and the shit storm started again.

"Children, Sherlock" he groaned. "I'm surrounded by children squabbling over shiny things and food." The scales under Bilbo's cheek vibrated as Sherlock let out a low hum. "They didn't mean to crash into you." Sherlock grunted once in acknowledgment before continuing his humming. It sounded vaguely familiar to Bilbo, reminding him of body parts in the fridge, bullet holes in the wall and running through London's many alleyways on Sherlock's heels.

Fatigue slowly crept through Bilbo's limbs and the hobbit yawned widely. "Shut up," he grouched, sensing the amusement radiating off Sherlock. "And don't think I don't know what you're doing Sherlock. If you wanted me to-" he yawned again "-to sleep you could've just asked..." Bilbo trailed off sleepily as a leathery wing blotted out the sight of the hall. "Bastard."

The humming faltered a bit as Sherlock drew breath but the dragon quickly continued, lulling the hobbit to sleep. Sherlock shifted his wing so he could poke his head into the makeshift leather tent. Golden eyes gazed upon Bilbo's sleeping form before Sherlock too fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late, but I've had really bad writer's block. Here's a short chapter though. Enjoy!

Bilbo woke to the sound of a dragon growling, which was in the top 5 things you don't want to wake up to. However, since Bilbo had already woken up to number 3 (a herd of hairy, naked dwarrows leaping over you) and number 5 (spiders. Giant, man-eating spiders) he wasn't as shocked or terrified as he would've been if he'd never left Bag End. But while a angry dragon wasn't as scary as it could've been, it still was a source for concern. "Whaz wrong?" He slurred, still waking up from his much needed sleep. "Bilbo? Are you okay?" Thorin's voice sounded weird -was he concerned? Bilbo couldn't tell, Sherlock's wing was still covering him.

"Let me out Sherlock or I'll never sleep with you again." Silence greeted his words, and Bilbo flushed as he realised what he'd just implied. "Sleep next to you," he quickly corrected. Sherlock's side was shaking ever so slightly. "Stop laughing you bastard, you knew what I meant. And let me out already." He battered at the dragon's wing, a kitten trying to get out of his carrier. Thankfully Sherlock seemed to take pity on Bilbo and unfurled his wing, exposing the hobbit to Thorin's glare.

 _Obviously not concerned,_ Bilbo thought. Thorin was giving his 'I'm-angry-at-you-but-im-not-going-to-tell-you-what-you-did-so-you're-going-to-spend-the-next-couple-of-days-wondering-what-you-did-wrong' look, one that he usually reserved for his trouble making nephews. Before Bilbo could ask what exactly he did wrong Thorin spoke.

"Gandalf has arrived." "You don't seem too pleased with that, Oakinshield," Sherlock noted. "I have no problem with the wizard," Thorin said coldly. "I do have a problem with the elves he has invited with him." Fangs shone in the dim light. "Well," their owner purred. "It wouldn't do to keep our guests waiting. We can't be bad hosts, after all." Sherlock slowly stood up, careful not to knock Bilbo and Thorin. "Shall we?" His footsteps sent coins and gems flying as he made his way to the entry hall, where he could faintly smell the elves.

Thorin glanced at a grinning Bilbo as the hobbit followed, muttering under his breath. "Yes, I suppose we can't be bad hosts. Hmm.." _Maybe the wyrm isn't **that** bad_ , Thorin mused with a small smile. Then it vanished. "Have you forgotten what he has done?" The dwarrow questioned himself. "He can take the Arkenstone, but he won't be taking anything else."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay!!!! Chapter!!! I'm SO sorry but shit's going down in my life so I'm finding it really hard to write. I'll try my best to get another chapter up soon though. And sorry if they seem to be getting shorter. Even though this one's a page and a half written down it doesn't look like much typed out.

The elves stood frozen around the campfire, beautiful statues with barely disguised horror on their faces. "Hello everyone!" Bilbo puffed as he rounded the corner after Sherlock. The hobbit came to a stop next to Sherlock's right foreleg and smiled awkwardly at the guests, most of whom where too busy gaping at the colossal dragon gazing indifferently at them to notice him. Bilbo cleared his throat politely.

"Good morning your Majesty," Bilbo gave a short bow towards King Thranduil. "Or afternoon. I've just woken up so I'm afraid I don't quite know what time it is. Would you like some tea?" Thranduil tore his eyes away from Sherlock at the hobbit's abrupt change in conversation. "Tea?" The elf repeated. "Yes, tea. Bard was nice enough to drop some off for us when he came over to discuss the treaty-" Thanduil's eyes narrowed slightly "-I think we have some biscuts too... nice ones, not cram..." Bilbo trailed off with a frown, his mind off in the kitchen.

Sherlock snorted in displeasure. "Why bother John? 'His Majesty' is obviously here for some kind of payment, probably The Jewels of Eryn Lasgalen, despite him not doing anything to earn that payment." The elves leaned slightly back as Sherlock's head snaked down and gently nudged Bilbo. "Bored." Bilbo rolled his eyes at Sherlock's behavior. "Go bother one of the dwarrows. And if you feel like being _civilized_   you may join us for our meal." Sherlock huffed, scanning over Thanduil and his escort before heading back to the treasury.

"Oakenshield," he greeted Thorin as they passed each other. The King nodded curtly. "Smaug." They continued past each other, Thorin keeping at least a metre between him and the dragon at all times. "Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, King Under the Mountain," Thranduil said formally. "Congratulations on reclaiming The Lonely Mountain." Thorin's face was blank as he replied. "Thank you. I assume you are here to draw up a treaty or a trading contract? Unless, of course, you have come here to try claim the Jewels of Eryn Lasgalen like the dragon said." "Of course not," Thranduil's face twisted into a smile. "Where shall we discuss the treaty?"

"There's a room already set up," Bilbo interjected. "I'll go get something for you all to eat." The hobbit smiled briefly at the odd cluster of people by the campfire before scurrying off to the kitchen. "Dori! Ori! Would you mind showing the guests who will not be attending the meeting to somewhere they can rest?" The two brothers nodded and replied that no, they would not mind. They ushered the elves in the direction of the rooms Bilbo had suggested while Thorin and Thranduil swept off to the meeting room, the silent Prince Legolas and Tauriel following closely behind.

"Where the hell is Gandalf?" Bilbo wondered later in the kitchen as he deftly placed the tea and biscuits on a golden tray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Jewels of Eryn Lasgalen are an actual thing, and (supposedly) the jewels Thranduil wanted from Thorin. And if you're wondering why Sherlock's being so nice and not going all 'I can tell your life story from your clothes' it's because Bilbo told him not to. And where's Gandalf????


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place around half an hour after the last chapter. Enjoy!

"That was quite clever of you Bilbo."

Bilbo swallowed the squeak that crawled it's way up his throat. "Goddam wizards and their stupid sneaking skills..." He muttered a few more curses under his breath, before turning to face Gandalf. "What was clever of me? Serving them tea and biscuts?" Gandalf laughed quietly and gestured towards the room that the hobbit had just left. Thorin's muffled voice crept under the door.

"Mentioning the 'treaty' with Laketown? Treating Thranduil and his escort with respect? Introducing Smaug the Magnificent, one of the last dragons in Middle Earth, like he was a distant cousin?" The wizard raised a bushy grey eyebrow. "You just ensured that Thranduil cannot try anything without angering thousands of people, some of them his own." Bilbo dropped the confused look and gave Gandalf a smug grin. "I know. But I'm not letting them know that I know. It pays to have a hidden card, especially when dealing with politics." He began walking down the hall and Gandalf followed, taking one step for every two Bilbo took.

"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf mused. "Well, that's what happens when you regain memories of your past life." Bilbo inwardly smiled when Gandalf's gait faltered briefly. "Bombour is in the kitchen if you're hungry, and I'm sure one of the dwarrows has set up a room for you. Kitchen's down that way," he added as they reached an intersection in the corridor. He pointed to the hallway on their left. "Follow that down to another intersection, then turn left. You should be back at the campfire and one of the dwarrows will be able to show you the rest of the way." Bilbo spun on his heel and took off in the opposite direction of where he'd pointed Gandalf. "Don't get lost!" He called over his shoulder, a deep satisfaction growing in his stomach. The hobbit had been trying to find a way to get back at Gandalf since the wizard had sprung this whole adventure.

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Sherlock eyed Bilbo from where he was sprawled across his usual pile of treasure. Bilbo sniggered. "How can anyone be scared of you?" He teased. "Your acting like a kitten." Precious metals grated against precious jewels as Sherlock carefully twisted onto his back, a smug look on his face. Bilbo laughed at the dragon and clambered onto Sherlock's exposed stomach. They fell silent and stayed like that for a while: a hobbit resting on top of a dragon's, neither making a move to leave or talk.

Suprisingly, Sherlock was the one to break the 10 minute silence. "The Elven Princehas a crush on the Captain of the Guard." "Uh-huh?" Bilbo mumbled, the heat pooling off Sherlock lulling him to sleep.

"The youngest dwarrow Prince -Kevin? Whatever his name is- also has a crush on her."

"Really?"

"The King is still mourning his wife's death."

"I didn't know that."

"You have a Ring of Power in your pocket."

"Whatever you say Sher- wait, WHAT?!" Sherlock looked at the shocked hobbit on his chest with amusement. "I can sense items of great power, especially if they are made of precious metals, such as gold. That ring radiates such power I could sense it when you were in Laketown." Bilbo spluttered, trying to find something to say. Sherlock continued onwards. "I wouldn't show Oakenshield the ring. He's avoiding falling ill to the gold lust so far, but if you show him the One Ring-" Sherlock was cut off by Bilbo falling off his stomach.

"John?"

"Oh my fucking GOD!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry for the wait, but have a slightly longer chapter for your troubles. Is it slightly longer? I can't tell.

"I still can't believe it's called 'Mount Doom' though."

"Yes, yes, it's a silly name. You've expressed that though three times in the last twenty minutes."

Bilbo scowled at Sherlock. "Give me a break Sherlock. I've just found out I've been carrying around the One Ring in my pocket.  _Sauron's Ring! In my pocket!"_ His voice shrilly echoed in the nearly deserted hall. Sherlock snarled angrily and made the hairs on the back of Bilbo's neck prickle. "Just shout it a little louder won't you?" The dragon growled. "Why are you so worried? We've had worse John, and panicking isn't really your style-" "Panicking _wasn't_ my style!" Bilbo interrupted. "But then i spent 50 years living as Bilbo Baggins, who's biggest problem was whether Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was going to come and bother him! I'm not the John you knew, Sherlock, so stop expecting me to be!" Bilbo shoved himself to his feet and left Sherlock lying there. His blood was pounding in his ears and his chest was heaving like he'd just gone down a river in a barrel again.

Pieces of broken stone were scattered across the steps leading up to the lookout tower. A cold sun shone in Bilbo's eyes as he exited the claustrophobic mountain. His hands shook slightly as he collapsed against one of the half-walls, ignoring the decades old skeleton sitting beside him. "Breathe Bilbo," he ordered himself, trying to channel John Watson. Captain John Watson who wouldn't be freaking out over a stupid ring.His chest constricted and made it harder to breathe.  _Stupid brain,_ the hobbit cursed.  _Think about something else. Something that isn't the ring that could destroy Middle Earth._

Flashes of memory invaded his mind - _an abandoned warehouse, following the bloody git who had taken off without warning-_ just like theyhad since he'd first remembered - _a gunshot, a sense of desperation-_ and this time he didn't push them back down.

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_Sherlock's coat was flapping dramatically behind him as they ran towards the warehouse. The case was simple, even by the polices standards: drug dealers don't get paid, rob the man that owes them the money, then shoot him out of panic when he comes home early. Sherlock had figured out where the drug dealers were hiding by the type of soil that had been left behind at the crime scene, and the bloody git had taken off without warning. John had barely managed to flick Lestrade a text telling him the address before following._

_"Lestrade's going to be pissed," John huffed. "He did say to let them handle the arresting part." Sherlock smirked. "Where's the fun in that, John?" The arrogant bastard sprinted ahead, leaving John behind (and with a great view of Sherlock's behind, not that John was looking of course)._

_They managed to reach the warehouse without getting hit by a car or meeting any murderous Winnie the Pooh's (don't ask). No lights were on, and John couldn't hear anything unusual. "Three to four men, at least one is armed with a gun," Sherlock muttered. "They're most likely centered at the west side of the warehouse; it has access to several escape points and is easy to defend." John nodded in understanding. "Shall we-" A flash of movement in the corner of his eye snapped John into 'solider mode'. His hand reached for his Browning in its holster while simultaneously yanking Sherlock towards a nearby dumpster. The drug dealer squeezed the trigger of the pistol, the loud bang echoing into the previously quiet night. Sherlock grunted in pain as he collapsed behind the dumpster. "Sherlock?" A dark stain was spreading across Sherlock's satin shirt. "Shit!" Steady hands quickly removed the blue scarf tied around the consulting detective's neck and firmly held it down on the bullet wound. John kept an ear out for the sound of footsteps. The drug dealer seemed content trying to shoot them through a metal dumpster but Sherlock had said there were two to three others._

_John hastily checked over Sherlock. The bullet had torn through his right lung, which was rapidly filling with blood if the faint red tinge on Sherlock's lips was anything to go by. A pale, blood-splattered hand rose up from where it had been pressing down on the soaked scarf. The army doctor forcefully pushed it back down. "Keep applying pressure," he ordered. He quickly scanned his surroundings for any enemies, but only saw litter and a half-starved rat. "I sent Lestrade the address," he informed Sherlock. "They'll have paramedics, he always makes sure to bring paramedics."_

_The pale hand returned, fingers weakly tugging at John's oatmeal jumper. "Sher-" John abruptly  cut off as he saw the expression on Sherlock's face. Blood covered his lips, contrasting immensely with the whiteness of his face. But the emotions shining in his eyes were what made John stare. There was no pain or fear in those ice blue eyes, which probably should've worried John, but he was more concerned with what_ was  _there._

_Sherlock didn't do 'feelings'. 'Sociopath', he called himself. But John could see the love he directed towards the people closest to him. The guarded warmth in his eyes as he smiled at Mrs Hudson after he'd thrown the man that had hit her out of a second story window. The 'casual indifference' he showed when he quietly place a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin on Lestrade's desk during a trying case that required several sleepless nights. And John knew without a doubt that the look Sherlock had in his eyes now was the same look the detective had had in his eyes before he stepped off St Bart's roof, or while he was dragging his blogger out from under a bonfire._

_John opened his mouth to say something -he didn't know what- when there was another gunshot and a searing pain in his chest. His world tilted sideways before white lights enveloped his vision. John Watson faded out to police sirens, a wet, strangled cry for help, and long slippery fingers wrapping around his wrist._


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back! So i'm just going to update this story whenever I can, because the last few updates have been really hard to write. The LOTR fandom has sorta faded into the background with all of the new ones i'm joining, but i'll try my hardest to finish this story for you guys!

When Bilbo woke he could still feel the fingers holding his wrist and a dull ache where the drug dealer had shot him. The sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving the hobbit defenceless against the cold that burrowed under his clothes and skin. He used the wall to heave himself up. "Well," he said to himself. "Look at what you've gotten yourself into this time." Over the last few days he's had flashes of what had happened that night, and the feeling that something between him and Sherlock had changed. But he never realised just _what_.

His feet barely made any sound as he slowly wandered back down the stairs. Thoughts clamored for his attention, each one shoving the others aside to be heard. They were so loud and attention-demanding that Bilbo didn't see the solid, fur-covered chest until he walked right into it. "Oh shi-sorry!" Bilbo squeaked, stumbling backwards until there was an acceptable distance between him and Thorin. The dwarrow waved the apology away. "Do not apologise. You were not the only one deep in thought."

Bilbo took in Thorin's furrowed forehead and the worried look in his eyes. "What's wrong? Did the elves say something?" He inquired. "No," Thorin reassured the hobbit. "It wasn't the elves. Do not worry about it." "It's obviously worrying you, and talking does help." Bilbo sat down on a chunk of fallen walll and made himself as comfy as he could on the hard surface. Several seconds passed before Thorin joined him.

"It is the wyrm," he began. "He took our home and many of our brothers and sisters. He made us scavengers and vagabonds and disgraced out race." Anger bled into Thorin's voice and the expression on his face. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably. "It's true Sherlock did all those things," Bilbo said softly. "And I myself have not fully forgiven him yet, but his actions were to ensure the survival of his species. And he  _is_ sorry. He's just bad at showing emotions other than smug, bored, and 'I'm surrounded by idiots'. Don't worry though, he's usually like that-" "He was like that before?" Thorin rudely interrupted. "What?" Bilbo questioned. "Bad at showing emotions? Yes, but he did care about the people he was close to, even if he was bad at showing it."

"The problem is not whether or not the wyrm has feelings," Thorin spat. His face twisted in anger and another emotion that Bilbo couldn't identify. "The problem is to do with whether or not he will betray us." Bilbo gaped at the dwarrow in shock. "Sherlock would never do that! Why would you think-?" "-Because he's already done it. Your 'Sherlock' is the same as Smaug. 'Sherlock' destroyed my home and killed my brother! 'Sherlock' would've killed us without a second thought if he hadn't have remembered you!"

Thorin had leaped up off the rock and was now passionately pacing back and forth. Accusations flew from his mouth and suspicion gleamed in his eyes. Bilbo could only sit and watch as the King Under the Mountain raged. "Of course my grandfather didn't give the wyrm the Arkenstone, it's obviously a lie, a pathetic excuse for his actions. He's taken  _so much,_ Bilbo!" Thorin turned to loom over the frightened hobbit. "And now he's trying to take you too."

Fear turned to confusion. "Take me?" Bilbo asked. "From what?" "FROM ME!" Thorin bellowed, red-faced and terrifying. He grabbed Bilbo's right arm and held it up. "See this?" He pointed to the woven band he'd given Bilbo at Beorn's house on a day that seemed so long ago. "It states that you are mine, that I intend to court you. He is attempting to undermine me, to make me look like a fool-" "You are a fool, Thorin Oakenshield." Bilbo pried Thorin's iron fingers off his wrist. "If you intended to court me, perhaps you should've stated your intentions when you gave me this. And not insulted my friend. If Sherlock wanted to kill or hurt us, he would've done so sooner." "He is not your friend!" Thorin hissed. "He is trying to trick you, to deceive you!" "He is not trying to deceive me Thorin!" Bilbo shouted angrily. "He loves me!"

Because that was true, Bilbo realised. SHerlock did love him. Not like he loved Mrs Hudson or Lestrade or Mycroft or Molly, but like John loved Mary. And like John loved Sherlock. Like Bilbo loves Sherlock. He shoved past a shell-shocked Thorin and ran down towards the treasury. He had to talk to Sherlock.


	13. Chapter 13

Okay, so I don't know if you guys write (I'm sure most of you do), but it is extremely difficult to write a story in a fandom you're not really in anymore. And I'm not really in the LOTR/Hobbit fandom anymore. So I'm discontinuing this fic (Omg I'm so so so sorry). I'd planned for this fic to be a lot bigger, but I've lost interest, so here's what I planned to write (in a condensed form).

After the last chapter, Bilbo runs down towards the treasury, but is intercepted by Kili who tells him that there's an army of orcs outside the mountain. Since its only the dwarrows, Bilbo, Gandalf, and Thranduil and his escort, they are hopelessly outmatched. The orcs attack and somehow break into the mountain. Sherlock saves the day and kills all the orcs, but not before Bilbo is knocked unconscious. Sherlock finally leaves the mountain carrying Bilbo's 'dead' body. Everyone thinks Bilbo is dead, and Bilbo has no desire to go back to Erebor and face Thorin.

Bilbo and Sherlock go back to Hobbiton (Sherlock in his 'human' form) only to hand the deed for Bag End over to Primrose Baggins (Frodo's mother). They go back to the ruined farmhouse near the trolls hoard and fix it up (after flying over Mt Doom and dropping the One Ring in). They use the Arkenstone to have a baby girl, who is half hobbit half dragon, and since Bilbo and Sherlock are mated, Bilbo has dragon-like traits. They live happily in their house and occasionally visit Frodo in Bag End.

Thorin rebuilds Erebor and Dale (with Bards help) and slowly recovers from his 'fit of possessive rage'. Fili and Kili often travel from Erebor to the Blue Mountains to visit where they grew up. On the way there they stop in at the Prancing Pony and hear talk about 'Mad Baggins and his husband'. They follow the directions to the farm house and have a tearful reunion (seriously, it was very tear jerking. I almost cried). Bilbo agrees to go to Dale, but not Erebor, seeing as Sherlock swore never to enter the mountain if he got the Arkenstone. Another tearful reunion, and Thorin apologizes for his actions. Bilbo accepts the apology but not the invitation to stay in Erebor or Dale. Bilbo, Sherlock, and their daughter go back home, but they regularly entertain members of the Company as they pass through.

After Frodo's parents die Bilbo takes him in, and tells him all about his adventures. Frodo grows up happy with his new family (with the odd trip to the Shire and Rivendell) and never has to go through his terrible adventure.

Yaaaay I'm so sorry for not finishing. Like, really sorry. I warned you though. I warned you about my commitment issues.

 

Sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how long this is going to be or if I'll finish it it was a little thing that popped up in my head and I decided to write it. Please tell me if there's any mistakes (I wrote this on my tablet) but if you don't like then don't read.


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